Chapter 33
ISEULT
“Have you found anything new about your friend?” I ask once we’re back at the wedding, sitting alongside one another.
Our table is empty. The rest of the guests are on the dance floor, my sister having fun with Sophia. Because who doesn’t have fun with that kid?
Spending time with her earlier almost made me feel like I was capable of the whole mom thing, but of course that’s a load of bull. Being a mother is a lot more than twirling around with your daughter.
“No,” Gio says, his face turning intense. “I haven’t been able to find Devlin, and I need to talk to him to see what he knows.”
I almost feel bad that I can’t tell him what happened. He should know. He has a right to. But it’s bigger than he realizes.
I’ve thought a lot about his connection to Bryce, and there’s no way he was involved in whatever Bryce was doing.
It just doesn’t fit. But at the end of the day, if he were to learn what happened that night, things between our families could change.
And instead of finding peace, the truth could throw us into a full-blown war.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, placing my hand over the top of his.
His brows knit, and his gaze leaps between my eyes and our bound hands. “You feeling okay, Red?” A wide smirk takes over his face. “For a second there I actually thought you were trying to console me.”
“What?” I yank my arm back. “Not in your dreams.”
I bite the edge of my lower lip to stop from smiling, watching his bemused face from the corner of one eye. He throws an arm around me and pulls me against his side.
“You’re already such a good wife,” he whispers and kisses the top of my head.
“I’m not your wife,” I breathe, trying to remove myself from his heavenly grasp before someone sees us.
“Not yet.” He holds me closer. His voice turns all raspy. “But I really like how that sounds, you being my wife.”
“I wouldn’t be good as anyone’s wife. Or a mother,” I admit, staying locked against him, loving the way it feels to be held by him.
“Look at you, already planning our children.” His eyes gleam teasingly. “I definitely wouldn’t mind practicing for that. How many should we have?”
“Shut up, Gio.” I throw a punch into his ribs, and he lets me go with a bemused groan. “I don’t want kids. I’d be a terrible mother.”
“No, you wouldn’t be.” He stares at me raptly.
He sounds so sure of himself, as though he knows it to be true.
“You care. You’d do anything for the ones you love.
We both know that, bambina. And at the end of the day, that’s all there is to being a parent.
I can see that with Michael.” He picks up his glass of whiskey and takes a long swig.
“And if that angry fuck can be a good dad, you’ll be fine. ”
I can’t help but laugh. And my mind…it does this thing whenever I’m near Gio. It starts wondering, creating a future I’m not ready to come face-to-face with.
“Excuse me?” A young waiter approaches me.
“Yes?” I stare inquisitively at his hand, an envelope in his grasp.
“You’re Miss Iseult, yes?” he asks nervously, his cheeks almost bright red, his curly brown hair falling over his ears.
“I am.” I dart a curious gaze at Gio, who returns it.
He extends his hand. “I was told to give this to you.”
“Uh…thanks?” I take it from him while he scurries away.
“Who would send you something at Michael’s house?” Gio questions while I start to open the envelope.
“I have no idea…” This strange, unsettling feeling drops into my gut.
I tear open the flap, unfolding the paper within.
With a sudden gasp, I read the words to myself. Over and over. Hoping this isn’t real. It can’t be.
“Red?” I hear Gio call, but I don’t see anything but those words on that paper.
I jump to my feet, rushing after the waiter, grabbing his arm when I get near.
“Who gave this to you?” I spit out.
He turns to me. “Ma’am?”
“The envelope! Who gave it to you!” With both hands, the paper crumbled in my fist, I clutch the collar of his tux.
“It—it was a woman. She didn’t give me a name.”
“A woman?” My heart pounds. “Are you sure? What woman? Is she here?”
The words fly out of me in a hurry, and my pulse thumps in my ears.
“Red? What’s going on?” Behind me, Gio’s voice carries with concern, a hand brushing up between my shoulder blades. At all other times, it would comfort me, but not now.
“I think she left, ma’am,” the waiter continues. “She had on a short black dress and had black hair. I’ve never seen her before.”
Nothing is making sense. Fuck!
Nausea swirls in my stomach, my head growing dizzy. I clench a fist to steady the build of panic thrumming through me.
“What did this woman say?”
His eyes grow, fear slinking through them. I can tell he’s not involved. It’s the only reason I haven’t beaten him for information.
“She just said it was very important that you get this and looked very serious.” His breaths turn heavier the longer he stares at my enraged expression. “She pointed you out to me, and when I looked around the room, taking my eyes off of her for a second, she was gone. Did I do something w-wrong?”
My fingers press in between my brows.
“Just go. Get out of here. But if you see her, let me know immediately. But don’t say a word to her. Got it?” I glare.
“Yeah…uh…I’m sorry.” He’s practically trembling, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly.
Once he starts toward the bar, I plop down onto the seat.
Gio pulls his chair right up against mine. “What’s going on, baby? Talk to me. Let me help.”
“I don’t need help. I’ve got this.”
With my palms digging into my eyes, those words on the note appear vividly in my mind, as though conjured up by him.
Privet, moya dorogoya. Ya skuchal po tebe. Ne mogu dozhdat’sya, kogda my snova budem vmeste.
Yeah, I’ve missed you too, asshole. Can’t wait until we’re together again either, so I can take both your eyes.
Sergey has returned for me, and this time it looks like he’s not alone.
Now I have to figure out who’s helping him so I can kill them both.
I left the wedding a little bit ago, unable to think with all that noise. Nor with Gio there, trying to get me to tell him what was on that paper.
But I know what would happen if I did. He’d want to save me. He’d go hunting for Sergey and probably get his ass killed over me.
I can’t let that happen. This is my fight. My kill. And I will kill that bastard once and for all. I owe it to myself, and most of all, I owe it to my mother.
Placing my cell on speaker, I call a number I have never needed to call. My phone rings and rings, while my fingers curl around the steering wheel, heading to my apartment. An SUV to my left honks wildly at me when I almost sideswipe it, but I curve around it and speed ahead.
I knew Sergey would return. I knew he wasn’t dead. Men like him are vermin. They always find a way to survive.
But he doesn’t know me anymore. He only knew the seventeen-year-old girl I was. He has no idea the kind of woman I became thanks to him. He can’t do a thing to hurt me now. He already did that. I wear the scars as proof.
Visions of what Sergey did to me fill my head. The way he’d burn me while I cried. While I begged.
The way he laughed. My God, I still can’t get his laughter out of my head, no matter how many years have been wedged between us.
“Hello?” Konstantin finally answers, his voice a smooth baritone. Calm and collected, like always. But underneath, he’s just a savage in a suit.
“Where is he?” I shout.
“I’m sorry, but who’s this?” he asks casually.
“You son of a bitch. You know exactly who this is.”
“Such a dirty mouth on you.” He chuckles. “Not much has changed, I see, Iseult. What might I do for you on this fine evening?”
“Tell me where he is, Konstantin, or I will drive all the way to your house and burn it while you’re sleeping.”
“You know I don’t take threats very well, right?” His tone turns callous. “So why don’t you tell me what has you this upset, and maybe I can help.”
“Your father. Where the fuck is he?” I grit, my pulse filling my ears.
“Oh, not this again.” He sighs like he’s bored, and I wish I could see him right now just so I could put a bullet between his eyes. It’d be worth dying for. “Like I told your boyfriend, my father is in—”
“I’m sorry?” I interrupt, my mood growing frustrated. “I don’t have a boyfriend, so what the hell are you talking about?”
He laughs again, like I’m a fool. “Giovanni came to see me.”
“What?”
“Oh, yes. A little over a week ago, in fact.” He pauses. “He was very upset to learn what my father had done to you, and like you, he wanted to find him. But I did explain that my father isn’t here. He’s in Russia or dead.”
“No, Konstantin. He isn’t,” I clip out, my vision growing cloudy from the hatred I feel for this entire family.
There’s growing silence between us.
“Did you hear me, asshole?” I ask, contempt weaving through my words.
“What did you mean by that?” he questions tonelessly. “Do you know something about my father that I do not?”
“Your father sent me a note while I was at Michael’s. And in it, he said he couldn’t wait to see me again. It was signed by him.”
His breaths grow monstrous. “Do you have the note?”
“I do.”
“Send me a picture. I will confirm his handwriting.”
I quickly pull over on the side of the road, grab the paper from the passenger seat, and snap a photo before sending it to him.
“Blyad,” he mutters a Russian curse.
After I got away from Sergey, one of the things I did was learn Russian. I wanted to be ready in case he ever came back, and knowing his language was one way.
“So it’s definitely him, then?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Good. I want his blood.
“The waiter who gave me the note said a woman with black hair had given it to him to pass to me,” I go on. “Do you know who could be working for him?”
“Black hair, you said?”
“Yes. Do you know her or not?”
He pauses for long, torturous seconds. “I do not know who it could be. My father has no alliances in America. I made sure of it. So whoever she is, once I find her, she’s good as gone.”
Like I said, a savage in a suit. If anything stands in their way, the Russians extinguish it.
“Did you happen to get a photo of her?” he asks.
“The waiter claimed she left as soon as she gave it to him. There were a couple hundred people at the house. It will take forever to comb through security footage.”
“Then I suggest you ask your boyfriend for his help.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Are you sure he knows that?” He chuckles. “A man who storms into my home the way he did definitely doesn’t do it for just anyone.”
“Lovely chatting with you, Konstantin. Let’s never do this again.”
He laughs as I end the call, and then I’m dialing someone else’s number.
Michael answers on the third ring, music from the wedding playing in the distance.
“Iseult? Where are you calling me from?” His voice booms louder than the melody. “Aren’t you at the wedding?”
“Uh, no. I actually had to skip out, but listen. I had a favor to ask, and please don’t tell my father.”
“Go on.”
“Can you ask the videographer to email me the raw footage from the wedding? I want to make something for my father and your mom. Like a wedding gift, you know?”
A long stretch of time passes, and my pulse thumps in my ears.
Come on. Don’t say no.
“Text me your e-mail,” he says, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief. “Is that all?”
“Yep. Thanks. Tell Elsie I said bye.” Quickly, I end the call before he gets suspicious.
Then I turn my car back around.
Seems like I won’t be going home quite yet.